Foutley's Phone Buddy
by Ryosei Takashi Hime
Summary: As punishment Carl now a freshman in high school is forced to join a program called Phone Buddies where he's bored by other kids' petty problems. Until he hears a familiar voice on the other end. SLASH WARNING! Carl/Blake
1. Carl's Dentention

The beginning of this is rather lame. I do apologize for that. I haven't watched As Told By Ginger in quite a while so please forgive any out of characterness though some of it would be due to the age difference. No one's immune from hormones. Not even Carl. o.O Anyways, Blake/Carl was always the only slash pairing I could see in that show so for some reason I decided to see if I could find any fics and after reading four or five I decided I wanted to write my own. So here it is. This was something quick to get me started so it's not the best. But tell me what you think. I'm more prone to continue a story I get reviews on. Otherwise I figure it's a piece of crap and there's no use in continuing.

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Was it Carl's fault that he could never break the old habit of scheming? Was it Carl's fault that his schemes showed less and less originality every passing year? Was it his fault that as they grew older his and Hoodsey's little pranks and get-rich-quick schemes were less and less tolerated by teachers and other varying authority figures? Of course not. So was it his fault that today - on the day he would be leaving for his first spring break as a high schooler - the principal caught him running a mouse circus behind the dumpster outside the cafeteria? Perhaps it was the fact that he was using what was considered school property -the mice - for profit or maybe the teacher was merely appalled at the fact that he'd actually managed to get three or four people to pay for such a show. Either way he had found himself in the hot seat once again.

The mice had been very well-trained and were performing expertly thanks in most part to his best friend Hoodsey who still seemed to have a way with animals. It was the animal-lover's great fortune to not be there on his furry little friends' debut performance due to some incident with his mother and a treadmill stuck on the high level. How the gum had gotten stuck in the controls in the first place Carl would never guess. Or at least that's the act he would put on later when Hoodsey told him this was the cause. And later would not come soon enough. Listening to Hoodsey talk about his mother's injury and confounded facial expressions would be far more entertaining than his current company.

Principal Morse sighed as he looked over a thick file at the Foutley boy. He had just started his job here when Carl began high school and the boy seemed set on destroying his career before he could even get it off the ground. He had done nothing but cause trouble since day one - since grade one even. His permanent record astounded him with the variety of mischief he'd managed to get into over the years. Surprisingly he had just found that this was by no means his first attempt at a circus using lower species of animals and several types of insects - including lice of all things. He shuddered at the thought. This made Carl grin and Principal Morse cleared his throat.

"Well, Mr. Foutley, I've been reading over your file lately and it doesn't seem that the normal punishments will suffice for someone of your ... experience. I have read that several alternative punishments have been tried - "

"And failed might I add." he stated proudly.

"Be that as it may I think I'll take a shot at this alternative punishment idea myself."

"Shoot away Petey."

"That's Mr. Morse." he nearly shouted.

Carl never grew tired of this little game. Petey was by far the easiest employee of the education system to annoy. He tried so hard to keep his temper in check so as to create a good image for himself at Lucky High but Carl could see the anger seething beneath his very skin like some sort of alien parasite laying eggs in his flesh. It often tempted him to snicker at his reddened cheeks and grinding teeth. He managed to contain himself this time however and watched as Principal Morse put away his permanent record, replacing the thick folder with a small brochure. He pushed the thin slip of paper towards Carl's fingers and he took it skeptically. The very first thing he read was -

"PHONE BUDDIES : Be a friend, gain a friend."

He couldn't manage to get through this slogan for a few moments. He couldn't quite imagine how talking on the phone would be a punishment but the look of glee in Petey's eyes urged him to read on.

"Be a Phone Buddies volunteer and help out a peer." He rolled his eyes at the corny rhyme, already dreading the rest. "As a Phone Buddies volunteer you'll come to your high school at 6:30 AM everyday. You'll be seated at a comfortable desk where you will await the ring-a-ting-ting of your individual phone. The person on the other end of this phone needs someone to talk to and you're that someone. You will stay at your station until 4:30 PM with a lunch break. Lunches are provided by your school so be a buddy to someone who needs it and become a Phone Buddy today."

Carl stared at the very obnoxious picture of some strange kid smiling as he gave the camera a thumbs up and pretended to chat away to some needy individual with no life. He couldn't believe he was about to be stuck with this but he decided not to get worried until he found out when he would start and how long he would be forced to participate. After all he'd have all of Spring Break to go before he had to worry about this.

"You will begin this program tomorrow, Mr. Foutely." Morse smirked. "And you will remain in the program for one week. That sounds a solid enough punishment, don't you think?"

"But that's all of Spring Break!"

"Yes, I know."

Carl couldn't stand the evil grin on his face and just grunted in a semi-agreeable way before storming out of his office, obnoxious brochure clenched in his fist. He kicked at rocks and cans as he walked along, taking his anger out on any inanimate object he could. He couldn't believe the nerve of that ...that weasel. It had taken him all this time but he'd finally managed to outsmart him. He'd been planning to spend that week goofing off with Hoodsey and annoying Ginger but now he'd barely have enough time to do the latter. He'd manage to fit it in though, he thought with a smile. He couldn't let Ginger think he'd forgotten about her after all. Firstly he would find out when she was planning on going swimming next and that's when he'd get his hands on her sun tan lotion. Now, what to replace it with...?

Carl wandered along the road silently plotting the torture of his sister since it would be all he could do with his little free time. The setting sun silhouetted his tall form against the trees that lined the other side of the road. He'd gotten rather tall since those days of yore when he'd sit in his doghouse and guard his precious eyeball from Gripling. He could barely even fit in that thing now however the eyeball still remained there like a lost treasure alongside Maude's gallstone. He smiled slightly at the thought and carried on this way for a while. He wished the high school was as close as the elementary school had been but he could manage the walk. He didn't want to have to bother his Mom or Dave for a ride. They were probably busy anyways.

As he was scowling at this thought he suddenly felt the presence of a car riding up beside him slowly. For a moment it made him suspicious but as the front pulled by him he recognized the white limo and it's driver - Winston. He knew what was coming before the window rolled down but he sighed none the less. The tinted glass slowly lowered to reveal a head full of perfect blonde hair and pristine white skin. Gripling still felt the need to tease him every now and then but he supposed that was the only way he could make himself feel better about being an outcast.

"Walking home Foutley?" came his sharp, British accent.

His voice had gotten a tad bit more masculine since puberty but it still held a childish tone. Carl doubted it would ever go away. He sometimes thought this was more psychological than biological since Blake had never really had to grow up. But then Carl did have to remind himself that he was two - or was it two and a half? - years younger than him. Sometimes he forgot due to the rich kid's fairly decent intellect and manner of speech. He'd toned his formal style down since middle school however and he could almost pass for a normal kid on some days though he did have the most expensive, name brand articles of clothing.

"Yep. Got caught with the mouse circus." he admitted. "But I made a few bucks off it first. Enough to buy a drink on the way home. Maybe a snack. Why?"

"It amazes me that such shenanigans still amuse you." he scoffed. "I suppose you even keep that eyeball of yours under your pillow - afraid someone may steal it someday. As though it were valuable."

"Well," Carl began, not letting Blake's insulting tone bother him anymore than usual. "I don't keep it under my pillow but it is safely guarded. You know, one man's trash is another man's treasure."

Blake made a somewhat amused sound in the back of his throat but the look in his eye was a little strange. It was a little sad and longing. Maybe he missed the good ol' days sometimes too. They certainly had fun competing against one another all those years ago. It had taken a while but eventually they're rivalry began to peter out until they barely ever said anything to one another at all - hostile or not. Carl believed that to be somewhere around seventh grade or perhaps the summer after sixth. Either way it was only when Blake felt the need to make himself known as the superior that they really spoke despite their sisters having become such good friends.

"We could give you a ride if you'd like. It's on the way." he added hesitantly.

"Nah. I need the exercise anyways. I'm starting to lose my girlish figure."

He looked over at Blake and flashed him a grin. The younger boy still looked a little sad but he smiled again and shook his head at Carl's lame joke. He didn't bother insisting and the window had rolled back up before Carl could consider changing his mind. Then they had sped off. When they got to the end of the road the limo turned left. As Carl reached the stop sign he turned right. On the way, he thought, right. He could tell at times that Gripling might still want to be friends with he and Hoodsey but rekindling such a delicate friendship as the one they had once possessed - if one could even call it that - wasn't something a person just did on the spur of the moment.

He put Gripling out of his mind for the time being. If they were meant to become friends or playful rivals again it would just happen on its own. There was nothing one could do to stop it or force it along. Instead he focused on his walk. He did indeed need the exercise as he'd somehow managed to let himself get flabby over the past summer. It had to be the first summer he'd spent almost entirely indoors. Mostly playing video games or watching TV with Hoodsey though they had occasionally gone swimming or hung out in front of the dog house. He'd been thinking of getting out more over Spring Break but obviously that wouldn't be an option now. Thanks to his wonderful friend, Petey.

He kicked the door open as he entered his lovely little home to the sound of an instant scolding. Lois had known he would kick the door in as he usually did. It was for this very reason that the door came open so easily now. He'd started doing it somewhere in middle school for no reason in particular - maybe it had been hormones - but now it was merely a habit he didn't want to bother trying to break. Ginger was sitting on the coach, talking to Courtney most likely or maybe Dodie. He hadn't seen her talking to Macie in god only knew how long. For some reason she'd drifted away from the rest over the years.

He didn't stick around to find out. Her social life didn't really interest him and the gossip that spewed from her mouth was nearly unbearable. She'd managed to get as bad about that as Dodie. He took the stairs two at a time as he ascended to his room which was still as dirty as ever. He dropped his bag to the floor and closed the door behind him, flipping on the radio. It was too loud as always and there were a few bangs on his floor to bring this to his attention. He pretended not to hear them and Dave gave up after a while. Carl didn't much care for Dave anymore. He'd never been big buddies with the man but at first he hadn't minded him so much. Now he just got on his nerves. Like every other adult in his life.

It was funny to know that these were the reactions of his teenaged hormones but to be unable to do anything about them. He just decided to let them ride their course until he outgrew it. He dealt with most things in life in a rather strange laid-back manner that sometimes confused those around him. He sighed as he put his pillow over his head and felt that no one understood him as he was sure plenty of other kids his age all over the world were feeling as well. He let the hard rock music surround him in a sort of chaotic womb that eased his mind. Another thing other people couldn't understand about him.

He laid this way for quite some time before there was a knock on his door and Dave announced that supper was finished. He yelled back that he wasn't hungry and just decided to lay in his chaotic refuge, letting himself fall into a soothing sleep. He didn't want to have to think about the horrible day he would have tomorrow. He so wished not to think of it that he hadn't bothered telling anyone downstairs anything about it. He would have to hope that his concerned principal would give his mother a call to make sure he got there on time. He was fairly sure the sadistic man would see to that.

And indeed he did for at the crack of dawn his mother invaded his room, shouting loudly in her rough voice. She jerked at his covers, pulled his blinds up to let the sun fall into his eyes and fought with him over the pillow he tried to use as a shield. After this normal routine he final groaned and slipped out of bed. He had to endure his mother's questions as she followed him around. Why hadn't he told her about this? Why had he even tried to pull off such a ridiculous thing? Why couldn't he just grow up? He just ignored her and grabbed a muffin on the way out the door. He absentmindedly wondered if perhaps he should have asked for a ride but that thought was immediately followed with a familiar question. Why hadn't anyone bothered to offer him one?

He didn't dwell on the thought for too long and just took in the sights of the morning streets as the sun poured it's orange-red light over the world. He didn't usually pay much attention to the scenery but since he didn't want to start thinking about things that would cause him to become bitter towards his "phone buddies" he decided to make an exception. The road he walked along was bright and the trees lining the sidewalks were covered in blossoms. They fell down on his head softly and he made a conscious effort to brush them all away the minute they landed. He didn't want to show up to something that would already make him feel ridiculous with flowers in his hair.

When he reached the door of the school it opened before he could place a hand on the handle. A strict looking woman stared out at him grimly. She was slightly frightening at first glance but then Carl noticed that the look was not strict or grim. It seemed to be amused. She wasn't a very old lady but she certainly wasn't young. She might have been around his mother's age. She was dressed in a plain gray skirt suit but that seemed to be the only stiff or strict thing about her. She was smiling suddenly at the sight of his face but he wasn't sure why.

"So you're our involuntary volunteer, huh?" she laughed. "I might have known you'd be late Foutley."

He just shrugged his shoulders slightly and let her lead him to his desk. The desks were lined up in the auditorium in long lines with partitions between each so as to give the speaker some bit of privacy with his phone buddy. She nudged him into his seat and tapped a ruler she'd snatched from somewhere along the way against his partition. Everyone looked up and peeked around the thin pieces of wood that separated them from each other to see what was going on. She stepped back some so the students further down the line could see her better and cleared her throat.

"Ahem. I'm Mrs. Dennison." she announced, pushing a small strand of black hair away from her glittering green eyes. "I'm running this phone buddy session here. Before we open our lines there are some things you need to know. Most of you have already heard this but for those of you who haven't I'll go over the rules again. First of all you can not tell your phone buddy how to solve their problem. You are only allowed to talk them through it. You are not trained professionals you 're just a listening ear - is that understood?"

Everyone nodded but Carl who shrugged. She just smiled at his dismissive behavior and put a hand on his shoulder softly.

"I'll be acting as the operator over here by Carl. Carl is here against his will so I've decided to keep my eye on him for a few days to make sure he doesn't try to convince someone to commit suicide."

This made Carl laugh though no one aside from Mrs. Dennison and himself seemed to find it funny. She was only kidding of course. She was sitting close to him because that was where the central line was located. Carl was curious as to why it mattered who got which call but Dennison explained that she wanted to make sure people got the appropriate phone buddies. She also informed him that sometimes people would prefer a certain phone buddy. Another rule, he found, was that he could not give out his real name. Instead Dennison gave him an alias to go by which he didn't really care for much to her amusement. He didn't think he wanted to be Nathaniel Everwood for even a few hours. He pitied the poor man who actually had to bear such a name.

He spent the rest of the day listening to sob stories and nodding his head accompanied by "I'm listening" noises. He didn't need to be told twice not to give advice because he didn't much care to. He didn't think he'd be good at it for one thing and he didn't want to make the effort either. It was a pretty simple thing to just sit at a desk and listen to stupid problems like love or family troubles. Simple but boring and he was betting that was where the punishment came into the picture. He could stand the boredom though. Half the time he just tuned the people out and several times he had his phone buddy hang up on him. He was wishing he'd never started training those mice by the end of the day.

"Here ya go Foutley. Try not to make this one cry." Dennison called down the line.

"I won't promise you anything." he muttered, smirking at the thought of his last caller getting so upset about his silence that she sobbed and hung up on him.

He picked up his phone the moment it rang and sighed as he answered with his usual greeting. This time he tried a British accent however. He'd been doing that for the past few hours. Answering in different voices to kill the boredom. Some of the responses he got actually pleased Dennison though that didn't seem hard for Carl to do. If he didn't know better he'd think she'd taken a liking to him.

"This is Nathanial, your personal phone buddy. What's your name?"

"A-Andrew ... Wellington." a small voice answered in a similar accent.

Carl nearly dropped the phone when he recognized the slightly feminine voice. There was no way in the world he could be that lucky. To have Blake Gripling just hand him his troubles and fears on a silver platter to be used as ammo whenever he needed it. Maybe fate really did have a playful rivalry in store for them once again and Carl would still have the upper hand. He grinned as he continued to recite the same beginnings of conversations he had been having all night. But this time he'd be taking notes.


	2. Blake's Invitation

Ha! I bet no one thought I would continue this story! You all thought I'd abandoned it but I was just being lazy! X3 Okay, for once I actually wasn't. And it wasn't writer's block either. It was really a simple problem I could have solved long ago if I weren't so feather-brained. The story was on my brother's computer which he had let me borrow for about a year. Then he wanted it back. So it took me forever to get over there and back-up all my files and bring them back to the computer I'm using now. I basically didn't have any CDs to burn them. I ended up having to borrow one from him actually and I only got my wordpad documents and some pictures. Anyways, enough of my excuses. Here's the next chapter. Gets a little cruddy in places but I will definitely try to pick the pace up with the next chapter to make up for taking so long with this one. Also, there might be typos since I didn't bother to run this one through a spell checker.

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Lois was loathed to enter Carl's room the next morning but it had to be done. She'd been anticipating Spring Break just as much as her children because it meant less time she had to spend forcing Carl to do various school related things. Like getting up for instance. The never ceasing battle between mother and son that predated civilized man. She took a deep breath in preparation for the yelling she knew she'd be doing and shoved the door open with a bang.

"CARL! GET...up?"

"Already there, Lola."

She turned from her son's empty room to see him walk by her quickly, fully dressed and ready to go. She was flabbergasted at this strange behavior and had to hurry after him for answers. When she caught up he was in the kitchen making some sort of breakfast concoction though of what it consisted she couldn't rightly say. Unfortunately this was one childhood habit he'd never broken. She watched him quietly as he ate, trying to come up with a way to question his early rising without discouraging it at the same time.

"So...Carl...what convinced you to get up so early? If you don't mind my asking, that is."

"No reason. If I have to endure such a punishment I figured I'd get it done and over with." he answered carefully.

"Are you sure you're not using that phone to talk to girls?"

"Mom..." he groaned, rolling his eyes. "If I have to hear another girl complain about her boyfriend I'll kill myself."

"I'll take that as a no." she responded with a smirk.

He didn't get the chance to reply and Lois didn't get the chance to question any further as Ginger came stumbling down the stairs in her disheveled pajamas with frizzy red hair sticking out from her head. She groaned half coherent sentences at her mother as she blindly searched for some kind of breakfast before getting ready to enjoy her time away from school. By the time she'd managed to get everything she needed for breakfast into her bowl and sat down Carl was nearly finished but he was sure he'd gotten up early enough to enjoy some quality family time - without Dave hanging around to ruin it. It was fairly nostalgic so for a few minutes he just sat listening to his mother and sister talk.

"So, Ging, where're you off to today?"

"Courtney's." she yawned. "She wants me to stay the night."

"Just make sure to stay away from those pit bulls they keep over there." Lois warned in her motherly voice. "Those things can be dangerous. They are guard dogs, ya know."

"Moom." Ginger sighed. "Don't worry. They're used to me."

"Well, I'm your mother. I can't help but worry."

As Ginger continued discussing Courtney's home and it's various dangers with her mother - including getting lost and never coming out via the Rose Red technique - he saw Lois' eyes wandering back to him. He knew the moment she could find a break in her lecturing and arguing with Ginger she would be after him again. He decided that now was the perfect opportunity to make his escape. Leaving what was left on his plate he for her to clean up, Carl exited with a short good-bye only half noticed by Ginger.

On the way down the sidewalk he was halted by Hoodsey who came running up to him. He wondered for a moment if he should bother telling him about Blake before he had managed to gather any actual ammo but decided against it. Instead he spent the walk complaining about the rest of the phone calls he'd experienced. Hoodsey actually recognized some of the people from overheard gossip between some of the girls in school but none of them interested Carl. He was more interested in Blake and again he wondered if he should tell Hoodsey. He felt a little uneasy about not wanting to discuss it with his best friend. Hoodsey should be the first he told about this but he found himself unwilling to divulge his particularly special phone buddy's identity.

"You haven't said anything for, like, ten minutes Carl." Hoodsey said, shaking him from his reverie. "Are you worried about my Mom cause I totally stood up for you about the gum."

"Nah, that's not it, Hoods." he sighed. "I'm just apprehensive about this special detention."

"Why?"

"No reason I suppose. It's been a while since I've gotten special punishment. It's not so cute anymore is it?"

"What?"

"The schemes and pranks. You think we're getting too old for it?"

"I dunno. Sometimes it's still fun."

"I know but it's losing it's luster, right?"

"I guess." he sighed. "Getting old sucks."

"Yeah. And we still have balding and marriage to look forward too." Carl added with a grin.

Hoodsey just laughed but he saw a hand go to his head for a moment. He didn't blame Hoodsey for worrying about baldness even now considering the bad case his father was suffering. After all balding was often a hereditary thing. Carl didn't know whether or not he should be worried himself considering he'd never really had the chance to hang out with his father. The last anyone had seen of him was when he came to see them before moving all the way across the country. That hadn't been long after his mother's wedding. Carl didn't think about him much but when he did it was often with resentment. Not anger so much as disappointment and regret. He sometimes wondered what it would have been like to have a real father in his life like most of the other guys he'd known.

Dr. Dave wasn't the same as a real father but he hadn't wanted Jonas around either. This had often caused him to feel confused about father figures in general and his male teachers suffered greatly for this along the way. He had never allowed himself to become attached to another female teacher. Not since he'd lost Gordon. Thanks to her they had been spared his pranks through middle school and now he was growing somewhat tired of pranks in general. Of course that wouldn't stop him from enjoying the anger of Petey for the rest of the year.

He exchanged a short good bye with Hoodsey when they reached the school and entered the gym in a hurry. As he settled into his seat - a few minutes early to Dennison's surprise - he stared at his phone in anticipation. He'd hoped he'd made a good enough impression on Blake yesterday to get him to call back again today. He hadn't really told him much during their first conversation. Carl could sense the mistrust in his voice when he spoke so if he had to buddy up to him to get his ammo he didn't mind. However as the day passed he grew less optimistic. He only got more boy troubles from girl's wanting to know if he could give them a boy's opinion on the subject.

Carl was sure that if he tried he probably could pick up a girl through this phone buddy thing. They all seemed pretty desperate for a guy who didn't treat them like crap. Carl could be that guy and ever since Sussman he'd had a hard time with girls. None of them seemed to like him for very long. At first they were head over heels in love with him because he was "sensitive" and "understanding" and some other bullshit he didn't think he was. But then they obviously realized they were wrong and decided to dump him for some jock or punk. Carl was flicking pieces of pencil eraser off his desk as he thought about this but found his bitter musings interrupted suddenly by what was probably another loner looking for acceptance in a community he wouldn't even be a part of in three and a half years. He was about to pick it up and answer in his normal, less than enthusiastic voice when Dennison called over to him.

"It's actually someone from yesterday, kid. Either he's a masochist or you were actually helpful for once."

Carl just grinned back at Dennison as he answered the phone in his fake accent. He was somewhat surprised that it fooled Blake really but he didn't put much thought into it. He was more worried about gaining the younger boy's trust so he announced himself with a hint of excitement in his voice. The sound of Blake's voice as he returned the greeting sapped all the anticipation from his face however. It sounded hollow and unsure.

"Hello, Nathanial." the younger boy whispered. "It's Andrew."

"Well, g'day, Andrew." Carl answered, mentally slapping himself for the Australian greeting. "What's on your mind today?"

"Nothing much of importance." he lied, twirling the phone cord around his finger. "I enjoyed conversing with you yesterday so I thought we might try it again."

"I see. Unfortunately I'm not allowed to speak of myself so I'm afraid you'll have to provide the subject for now."

"Yes...well...I suppose..."

Carl sighed at his stammering. Blake's pride was going to be a difficult obstacle to overcome. Yesterday was mostly spent listening to him brag vaguely so that Carl wouldn't know who he was. Today he hoped he could get him to admit to some more embarrassing events or fears. Carl leaned back in his chair and smiled, finding a strange satisfaction in the vulnerable tone of voice Blake was using as he muttered through a story about his sister. Something about the soft way he mumbled under his breath with a little laugh gave him a thrill. He sat up and frowned, passing the feeling off as pure male dominance.

"So, you've spoken of a mother, a butler and a sister so far. Do you have any friends?"

Carl wasn't sure why he'd brought up a subject he knew would make Blake feel uncomfortable but as the other boy fell silent he immediately regretted it. If Blake didn't feel comfortable speaking to him he wouldn't reveal any secrets after all. This excuse slipped to the back of his mind as he heard the tremble in Blake's negative response. Carl had to think of a way to salvage this disaster and make Blake feel better. He slammed his head on the table just hard enough that Blake wouldn't hear it over the phone, hoping that would jump start his brain.

"Well, Andrew, I'm sure there's someone-"

"No." Blake responded instantly. "The only boy in school who will speak with me is an outcast as well."

"Well that's someone at least."

"He carts around an ageing monkey who vomits quite often.. I understand that beggars can't be choosers but I would prefer to avoid such a risk." Blake answered curtly.

"And there's no one else?" Carl urged.

Somewhere in the back of his mind a little voice was screaming, "Me, me, me, me!" and Carl couldn't ignore it. He wanted Blake to mention him. He wanted to find out what Blake would say about him if he didn't know he was listening. He had certainly had no desire to hear about his relationship with Brandon. He made a face of disgust at the thought of the strange kid who still toted Mr. Licorice around with him everywhere. He nearly scooted to the edge of his seat as Blake spoke again.

"There is this chap I used to know as a child..." he said slowly. "But he won't give me the time of the day now."

"Maybe he doesn't realize you want to be friends." Carl replied, putting a hand to his eyes.

Now he felt bad. He'd known Blake was trying to become friends lately but he had been too busy with his own life to take notice. Now he was only interested in him for his own selfish reasons. But then the reasons were to get closer to him in a way. Maybe Carl just didn't know how to make friends right. He'd had Hoodsey for as long as he could remember but perhaps he'd always pushed Blake like he had because he was afraid of failing at befriending the other boy. Carl slammed his hand on the table again. He hated it when he ended up psycho-analyzing himself.

"Perhaps."

"I tell you what, Andrew. Try to get his attention again tomorrow. Be a little more clear. Invite him over or something."

"He wouldn't even take a ride from me yesterday." Blake said, sounding pouty.

"Then visit him at his home. Perhaps this will be more acceptable to him."

"Perhaps..." Blake consented. "Well, then, Nathaniel...I'll call tomorrow."

"I'll talk to you tomorrow then, mate." Carl said with a smile.

He sighed deeply as he hung up and placed his head back on the table a little more gently than he had the previous two times. Now what was he doing? There was no need for him to hang out with Blake in order to get him to confess to something he could use as ammo. No. This wasn't right. He wasn't supposed to start feeling sorry for him. After all, they were arch-rivals as children. This thought was able to sufficiently destroy his previous analysis of their relationship. Carl had a habit of admitting the truth to himself then soon afterward concealing it once again. He could tell now that this was not going to be the best way to carry out his original plan. However, he knew he wouldn't be so cruel as to turn Blake away the next day.

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Carl was standing at the fridge searching for something to eat when it happened. There was a light knock on the door that he knew couldn't be Courtney. She made sure everyone knew she had arrived when she visited. Hoodsey and he had a somewhat secret knock themselves so who else could it be? Carl looked at his reflection in the shining surface of their stainless steel refrigerator. His hair was nowhere near perfect. It was actually sticking directly up on one side. He hurried to comb it down with his fingers as he looked around for a dirty shirt to put on before heading for the door. He was half in his shirt and half out when he finally got there. Carl pulled the cotton blend curtain down from his eyes to reveal Blake.

There was a light color to his cheeks and the fleeting thought that he had been staring at his bare chest passed through Carl's mind but he let it go. Blake's cheeks had a natural color to their pale surface anyways. His lips were paler than usual today however and his eyes a little wide as he shuffled his feet, looking away quickly. Carl put a hand on the door frame and stretched across to lean on the other side. He was posing! He could have killed himself for that. Instead he straightened up and crossed his arms as casually as he could.

"What is it Gripling?"

"Well, you see Foutley...the truth being...I wanted to..."

Carl could see that he was nervous and he knew that the cause of this was probably the stolid frown that was plastered to his face however if he didn't frown he was afraid he might smile. And if he smiled Blake might get suspicious. This was pure paranoia on Carl's part. He was forgetting that he had just recently smiled and winked at the younger boy. He watched as Blake's lips stumbled over his words a moment longer before he was able to get himself together. He took a deep breath and started over with an embarrassed look.

"I...wanted to ask you something." Blake sighed. "I know we haven't been the best of friends in the past but I thought...perhaps we would give it another go. What do you say? We could ...hang out at my place. Or yours."

"Sure, Blakey-boy. Why not?"

Blake's face lit up with excitement but he was quick to hide it from Carl. He invited him to come to his house but Carl knew that Ginger would be there hanging out with Courtney. So instead he insisted they head up to his room. Lois and Dave were out to dinner anyways so Carl would have been bored otherwise. Hoodsey was away visiting Dodie for the weekend. Upon hearing this Blake's face glowed with a deep blush and he stopped one stair away from the top floor. Carl turned to look at him with a questioning look in his eyes but Blake didn't give him the chance to inquire as to the problem. He hurried to the top and followed Carl to his room.

Blake looked around at the postered walls and the grungy carpet that had transformed from a bright white to a dingy brown over the many years they had been here. When Dave had first entered the family he had wanted them to move from this house but Ginger had made such a fuss about it that the move was never made. The strange thing was that he would have been moving down the road from the Griplings. If that had happened he and Blake might have become friends long ago. As he talked to Blake about meaningless matters he thought it might have been better that way. He smiled at Blake's eager face as he told him about Courtney's upcoming party.

"It's really not for any special reason. She just wants to have one before spring break ends." he went on. "I'm sure she wouldn't mind if you came along with Ginger. If you wanted to."

"Is that an invitation?" Carl asked with a sly smirk.

"I suppose." Blake blushed, shifty eyes looking anywhere but Carl.

Carl was becoming more suspicious as the hours passed and Blake could tell he was in danger of being discovered. However the more he seemed to slip up the harder it was for him to control his stuttering words and the bright blush on his pale face. Carl couldn't help but laugh at him eventually. Blake didn't seem to take too kindly to this. He felt as though Carl was letting him hang around just so he could pick on him. Now Blake was turning his face away from Carl in aggravation. Carl noticed but wasn't sure how to apologize without bringing up the delicate subject.

He'd never thought about it before but Blake was quite obvious. All it took was one little action to make someone suspicious and they knew. Now he understood why people picked on him in school for this reason. He hadn't given the idea that it might be true much thought. Carl found that he wasn't uncomfortable with the realization that Blake had a crush on him. However, this would worry him quite a bit later. For now he had to assure Blake that he hadn't been discovered.

"Alright. I'll go with Ginger and meet you there." he sighed, putting his arms behind his head as he leaned against the headboard. "I appreciate the invite by the way."

Blake looked up at him from the beanbag in which he was stiffly sitting but he had his eyes closed. Blake smiled slightly and looked at his feet. He couldn't believe that Nathanial had been right. All he had to do was come right out and ask. Even though he felt that he had asked a little too desperately. He had most likely given himself away but if Carl didn't mind leaving it as an unspoken understandment neither did Blake. The last thing he wanted to do was push Carl away with his odd feelings. At one time he had thought he would be able to own Carl through his money in the future. That method had been proven useless long ago of course but now he would much rather be owned by Carl. He didn't have much hope for this but would enjoy finally being a close friend of the one he had admired since childhood.

Carl bounced himself off the bed suddenly and stretched. Blake had to use all the force of his will to keep from staring up at him as he did so. He'd already dug his grave deep enough for the time being. He waited until Carl had moved from in front of him before standing as well. Carl put an arm around his shoulder as he guided him out and Blake's heart thumped faster. He was barely listening as Carl explained that his parents were back and that he should be getting home before Lois made a big deal out of the friendship. Blake just nodded dumbly. He was too afraid he would say something stupid if he opened his mouth. Carl bide him farewell as he practically pushed him out the door. Blake didn't seem to mind. He was smiling as he passed Lois, poking at the numbers on his cell phone blindly.

"Well," Lois began as she entered. "I see you've made a new friend, Carl."

"Sorta." he shrugged in response, watching as Dave entered behind her.

"Did ya meet him at that detention?"

"Sorta."

"Is his name sorta, too?" she asked with a laugh.

Carl glanced at Dave out of the corner of his eye as he laughed weakly in support of his mother. Carl shrugged his shoulders and snatched an apple from the basket on the table. He left for his room without a word. He didn't want to talk to anyone about Blake. If he couldn't tell Hoodsey about it there was no way he could discuss it with his mother. He sighed as he flopped down on his bed again. He tossed the apple into the air and caught it a few times until he missed. As it hit the ground and rolled to a stop beside his beanbag he suddenly found himself wishing that Blake had sat up on the bed with him today. He thought that might have been nice. Their arms might have brushed against one another. Blake might have tried to make some sort of move. It would have been real nice if he had put his arms around Carl and stared up at him with those pristine eyes. God, it would have been nice.

When he caught himself thinking this Carl suddenly found a great pressure building up behind his eyes. He turned over and slammed his head into his pillow. It wasn't easy to hurt yourself on something as soft as a pillow but somehow Carl managed it. He didn't mind though. He was too busy squeezing the offending pillow over his head as though he were trying to push those strange thoughts out through his various facial orifices. He sighed as he relaxed after a moment of fruitless squeezing. Carl hated that he was logical enough that he knew what he was thinking but so in denial that he could forget it the next moment. He sighed into his pillow as darkness set in around him. He heard Ginger enter the house. He heard the family downstairs, interacting. He wanted to go down and see everyone too. Even Dave. He would talk to anyone if it would get these thoughts off his mind. However he couldn't seem to budge an inch. It was as though he were glued face-down to his bed. He picked something up from his dresser and threw it across the room with what seemed to be all his strength. This endeavor did not promise to be as fun as it had once seemed.


	3. Carl's Kiss

Carl combed his hair back and looked himself in the eyes. He combed it to one side. Then the other. Finally he got exasperated and ruffled his hair with his hand. That would do. No it wouldn't. He groaned as he slammed his head on the bathroom counter. Blake was causing his head a lot of problems lately - both physically and mentally. All he'd heard about as Nathanial for the past two days was how much Blake was looking forward to this party. How much Blake was looking forward to seeing Carl at the party. He hadn't once come right out and said how he felt. Carl wished he would. If Blake would just help him rid the little doubt he had in his mind about it he might actually come to terms with his feelings. However, if Blake didn't feel that way about him and he admitted it to himself once and for all he'd be stuck with it while Blake went on to live a normal life. Carl sighed and lifted his head. He turned suddenly when he noticed Ginger standing in the doorway behind him.

"Having a bad hair day, Carl?" she asked, sauntering in. "Or a worse hair day considering what your hair usually looks like."

"Oh, shut up." he snapped, trying to run the comb through his tangled hair.

"Are you meeting a girl at Courtney's or something?" she went on, snatching her toothbrush from the stand and pushing him aside.

"No! And I'm using this mirror!"

"Use the one in the hall." she replied, sticking her toothbrush in her mouth and mumbling the rest of her sentence. "There's no schink in front o'dat one."

"No schink?" he mocked, sticking his tongue out at her. "Fine. I couldn't see myself around your stupid hair anyways."

Carl felt a foot make contact with his butt as he was leaving but when he turned to retaliate the door slammed in his face. He sighed again and groaned to himself as he headed down the hall. He'd never tried to do anything with his hair before and now he pitied girls. How did they deal with this everyday of their lives? Lois poked her head out of the kitchen as he flopped down on the couch. He didn't notice her approach and was lying face down in throw pillows when she peeked over at him. She put a hand to his shoulder and he nearly jumped five feet in the air.

"Geez, Carl. Lay of the caffeine." Lois sighed. "What's wrong with you?"

"My stupid hair!" he shouted, leaning his forehead against the couch and hanging his arms over the back.

Lois laughed and took the comb from his hand. He sat up as she began to fuss with it. He closed an eye every time she hit a small tangle in his short hair but she finished in no time. Soon it was laying flat down on both sides as it always had. He had once thought of going for a spiky look but that was as close as he'd ever gotten to even thinking about his hair. He was too attached to this style by now anyways.

"There you go, kiddo. Now you look sharp." she said with a wink.

"It's the same as always." he stated, putting a hand to his head.

"Well, you always look sharp." she replied, walking away.

"Thanks, Mom." he whispered when she'd gone.

He stood from the couch and went in search of his good shoes. The ones that weren't caked in dirt and marker doodles. He hadn't been sure what to wear at first. He thought he might have to rent a tuxedo considering who was holding the party but Ginger told him that Courtney had informed her that it would be casual. Unfortunately he still had to get dressed up because casual to Carl was horrifyingly filthy to Courtney. He was wearing black slacks with a buttoned up white dress shirt. He had forgone the idea of a tie because he didn't know how to tie one and he didn't want to have to ask Dave. Now that he had his shoes on and had spritzed himself with Dave's cologne he was ready to go. He was going to wait for Ginger on the couch but heard a knock at the door before he could sit down. He hurried to answer it, thinking it might be the limo that the Griplings were sending for them. However, when he opened the door it revealed someone a little less expected.

"Hoodsey." Carl stated, looking somewhat stunned. "What're you doing here?"

"Visiting, duh." he answered, putting his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. "I just got back from Dodie's. Why are you so dressed up?"

"I'm going to a party." he answered, shocked that he had almost completely forgotten about Hoodsey. "At the Griplings."

"Cool. Can I come?" Hoodsey asked, eagerly. "My mom can get me ready in a jiffy."

"Sorry, Hoodsey." Ginger said, entering the room. "It's invitation only."

"Well, who invited Carl?"

"Blake." she answered, putting on her earrings.

"Blake Gripling?!" he asked in shock.

"That would be the one." Carl replied with a nervous grin. "I've been hanging out with him while you were gone."

"Why?!"

"Come on, Hoods. He's not that bad."

"Yes he is!" Hoodsey huffed, getting himself worked up. "He tried to outdo us in everything all through school, Carl! And he always made those cracks about me! I thought we hated him!"

"We...did...at a point in history." Carl started slowly before regaining his gift of gab. "But the past is behind us Hoods. It's time to expand our horizons. Open our minds. Make connections. We might need him someday."

"Ya know, Carl. I just don't get you lately." Hoodsey replied, looking away. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Carl sighed as Hoodsey turned to leave. He hadn't even thought about when Hoodsey might return or what he might say if he found out Carl was hanging out with Blake in his absence. In fact he hadn't been thinking about Hoodsey at all while he was with Blake. That made him feel guilty but as the limo pulled up outside Ginger grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the tinted windows excitedly. The door opened and Courtney smiled out at them. Ginger crawled in and sat beside her so Carl followed. Across from Courtney Blake was huddling in the corner as though he were trying to hide but when Carl smiled at him he sat up. Carl settled in beside him, trying to pretend he hadn't sat so close on purpose. He put his arms over his head and Courtney looked appalled at his posture. Blake didn't seem to mind. Ginger actually notice the way Blake was staring at everything below her little brother's neck.

"So, Carl." she began, slyly. "Who's this girl you're meeting at Courtney's again?"

"Girl? Oh, really." Courtney said with a smile. "Do tell, Carl. Is she someone I know or a friend of Blake's?"

"I'm not meeting a girl!" he shouted, sitting up.

"Well, you took so long getting ready I just assumed you were meeting someone special."

"You said to get dressed up!" he argued, fighting the urge to glance at Blake to see his reaction.

Ginger and Courtney just giggled at his anger. Carl could just hear them thinking, Boys, at the same time. He crossed his arms and leaned back again. He glanced over at Blake when the girls seemed too lost in conversation to notice. He was looking out the window silently, one hand on the door and the other on his knee. Carl's eyes couldn't seem to leave that hand resting against his leg. It was just lying there, fingers curled ever so slightly. Pale and fragile. Blake had beautiful hands. He blushed slightly but just as Blake turned to focus those perfect blue eyes on Carl he turned his head away. Blake let a small smile creep onto his face before looking down at his feet. None of this went unnoticed by Ginger.

When they arrived the Griplings' large yard was filled with cars. Most of them were of the expensive variety. The door was already open though there was a very large man standing by it with a list. He let them by immediately with a wave of Courtney's hand and they entered what had once been the Griplings' foyer. It had been turned into a dance club overnight. There was a disco ball hanging where an expensive chandelier had once swung and a DJ was set up against the back wall. Carl almost grimaced at the techno music that pounded through the air and invaded his mind. There were buffet tables along all the walls but there was hardly anyone near them. The dance floor was full of jumping and writhing bodies. Carl was almost starting to regret coming now.

Blake beckoned to him as Courtney and Ginger began to mingle. It was way too loud to talk so he followed him to the other side of the large staircase that lead upstairs. The stairs served to block a lot of the noise so Carl and Blake talked for a little while. Carl listened more than anything though he did decide to voice his opinion on the music choice. Blake seemed to agree with him though he was sure the younger boy would prefer something a little softer than what Carl was hoping the DJ would play eventually. Carl felt Blake move closer to him but he refused himself the desire to glance over at him. He didn't want Blake to know that he had noticed. He looked down at his feet and saw Blake's hand out of the corner of his eye. It was only a few centimeters from his own.

"They're finally changing the music." Blake stated as the techno beat ceased abruptly. "Do you want to get something to eat before they begin the racket once again?"

"Sure." Carl replied, shrugging slightly.

They stood and headed for the snack tables but the lights began to dim as they did so. Carl almost tripped on a chair but caught himself on Blake's shoulder. He apologized but Blake didn't say anything. If he could see the other boy's face clearly he would realize he had enjoyed the simple touch greatly. Blake's face felt like it was on fire and he was glad the lights were low. They sat down before Carl ended up hurting himself and watched couples slow dance. Carl didn't see Ginger from where they were standing but he was sure Courtney had set her up with a dance partner already. He ate chips and sucked down a coke though Blake didn't seem to be hungry. He just watched Carl eat. Carl was sure he was grossing the more sophisticated boy out and decided he should stop while he was ahead. He gulped the last handful of chips down quite audibly and chugged the coke. Blake jerked when he crushed it in his hand, tossing it on the table. Carl definitely didn't think he was impressing Blake with his manners.

Carl wiped his mouth on his sleeve and lowered his hands to his lap silently, looking slightly embarrassed. He went back to watching the other wallflowers. He was trying to guess who was going to find someone to dance with before they decided they'd had enough slow songs and went back to the techno. He watched as a few were asked but one girl was sitting alone. Carl was beginning to feel sorry for her until another girl walked over with the boy she had been dancing with a moment ago. She dismissed the boy and offered to dance with the girl instead. Carl wondered if she was a lesbian or if she was only doing this out of kindness. It was harder to tell with girls because they would dance with one another without worrying that someone would call them gay. His mind seemed to be consumed by this thought suddenly.

"Why can't men dance together without being called gay?" he asked suddenly.

"I...beg your...pardon." Blake said with a raised eyebrow.

"That girl's dancing with her friend because no one asked her. If a guy did that everyone would think he was gay."

"Well, of course." Blake replied with a small laugh.

"That's sexist though." Carl huffed, crossing his arms. "I think we should prove a point."

Carl stood suddenly and thrust a hand at Blake. Blake stared at him like he had lost his mind though there was a hopeful look in his eyes. Carl could make out the blush on his cheeks even in the dim light from the disco ball. He watched as the multicolored lights passed over Blake's face a few times before the other boy reached up and gave Carl his hand. There was no way Blake was going to miss the opportunity to dance with Carl. Carl had been genuinely trying to prove a point when he'd made the ridiculous suggestion but when Blake placed his delicate hand into his open fingers a thrill went through him. He pulled Blake to his feet gently and stared for a moment. What was he doing?

"Shall we?" he asked, smiling to cover up his uncertainty.

Blake nodded and Carl lead him over to the dance floor. A few people stopped dancing momentarily to stare but not too many of the guests even took notice of them. Carl placed his hand on Blake's shoulder and the other around his waist. Blake's entire body seemed to go off in a tingle as his fingers caressed the small of his back. Carl was being so gentle and was staring down into his eyes without looking away. He didn't know if he was going to survive this dance to find out if he was really proving a point or not. Blake almost died when Carl pulled him a few steps closer as he wrapped his arms around his waist in return. And then they began to move. Carl was by no means a ballroom dancer but he at least tried to move rather than just swaying from side to side. Blake didn't seem to mind that it wasn't exactly a romantic waltz. He was pulled closer and gasped slightly as his body touched Carl's. He was definitely not going to make it.

"Carl..."

"Sorry." he laughed in a low voice.

Blake wished he hadn't said anything as Carl pulled back again. He felt like he was being teased in a way. Across the room the dance was being watched by a pair of somewhat surprised eyes. Ginger grabbed Courtney's arm and she looked over to her friend with a frustrated expression as she was dragged away from her conversation with another girl. Ginger simply pointed at Carl and Blake silently so Courtney followed the direction of her finger. She gasped when her eyes landed on Carl and Blake. Her little brother was dancing with Carl Foutley of all people!

"That Blake!" she exclaimed. "Of all the boys in the world he takes to that filthy little mongrel you call a brother."

"...Wait...Courtney, aren't you shocked that he's taken to a boy at all."

"Of course not, Ginger." she laughed. "Really, as feminine as Blake is you don't think we haven't been waiting for this to happen?"

"You might have seen it coming but I didn't." Ginger replied. "I mean, Carl's always been weird but in a masculine way I guess."

"Well, at least if they marry we'll be sisters." Courtney giggled, looping her arm with Ginger's as they watched.

Carl pulled Blake close once again and Blake made sure he didn't ruin it this time. Carl held him as their dance dwindled into a sway. Blake hoped he would pull him a little closer. He wanted to be wrapped up in Carl's arms with their bodies pressed tightly together. He wanted it so much at that moment he almost made his desire known but before his lips could part the music ended. Carl pulled away as the lights brightened again and the techno music resumed it's obnoxious pounding. Blake stared up at him without speaking but Carl pulled him back to the edge of the dance floor by his hand after a few seconds. He flopped back into his chair but Blake stood, staring down at him.

"Carl..." Blake whispered.

"Huh?!" Carl shouted.

"Nothing!" he shouted back.

"What?!"

"NOTHING!"

"What?!"

Blake sighed and looked around. The party had grown since they'd arrived and he was sure the whole town was there. He shook his head and grabbed Carl's arm. He pointed to the stairs so that he'd know where they were going. He followed obediently but Blake didn't stop at the stairs. He continued on to a door across from them. As they exited and could speak once again Blake explained that the noise was getting to him and he needed to get away from it for a while. So he lead Carl to his old tree house. They climbed up into the still sturdy boat-like structure. Luckily the tree house had been built for the occupation of Winston as well. The trap door was big enough for both to climb through and the floor would definitely support their weight. Carl looked around to find that Blake actually seemed to still occupy the aging childhood relic. There was the refrigerator, a TV with a game console hooked up to it and he would bet his life there was a satellite dish on the roof. Blake sat on the couch and didn't look at Carl.

"So, what ya got to eat in here?" Carl asked, opening the fridge.

"No! Don't-!"

"Blakey-boy." Carl whistled. "You got a bit of a drinking problem."

Blake blushed as Carl was greeted by the sight of liquor bottles. It looked to be some pretty expensive booze. He riffled through the contents of the small, frozen treasure chest until he found some vodka. He slammed the door shut and Blake cringed as he heard the bottles in the side tray rattle. Carl flopped down next to him with a grin on his lips as he shook the vodka slightly. Blake was surprised that he hadn't wanted to know where he had acquired the alcohol or why he kept so much of it in his tree house. He hadn't thought Carl would be a drinker due to his family's general good values. However, if he didn't care Blake wasn't going to object to sharing with him.

Blake wasn't really a drunk. He only drank enough to get buzzed when he was upset or stressed. That liquor was supposed to last him for a year. Carl went through three bottles on his own. He had never imagined he would be watching Carl get drunk on his couch while he sat beside him, holding his second drink. Carl began to talk about things that bothered him. About Dave and his father. He talked about school. He even talked about Sussman which made Blake a little uncomfortable. Then he started talking about when they were kids. They shared some laughs over some of the ridiculous episodes they went through. Then Carl got serious and Blake blushed. He scooted closer as he told him about how he was glad they'd become friends again.

"You know what Blakey-boy?" Carl slurred, staring into his eyes. "You're my best friend."

"I thought Hoodsey was your best friend." Blake replied.

"He is," Carl whispered, grabbing Blake's face. "But a guy can have more than one best friend. And you're my best, best friend."

Carl's fingers were squeezing his cheeks so that Blake's lips were puckering up and a deep blush spread all over his face. Carl was leaning forward. His lips were inches away. Centimeters. Oh, God. Carl's lips touched Blake's softly and he felt himself melt into a puddle. He leaned into the kiss as it intensified and Carl's hand left his face. Blake intertwined their fingers softly and almost moaned. The kiss wasn't nearly as passionate or as long as Blake had hoped. It was a drunken, sloppy kiss which Carl soon ended. Blake stared at him with tears in his eyes. Carl leaned his head against Blake's shoulder and wrapped his arms around his waist. His eyes closed slowly and Blake felt him go limp in his arms. He fell backwards onto the couch under his weight and there they stayed. Blake sighed as he ran his fingers through Carl's hair. This probably wasn't going to go over well in the morning.

When Carl woke up he was laying on top of Blake. There were at least four bottles of booze on the floor. He pushed himself up abruptly and looked down at Blake. He was still sleeping and luckily still dressed. Carl breathed a sigh of relief as he stood. He looked around for a moment and was shocked to find the sun shining in through the windows. He'd stayed here all night. The fact that he had been sleeping on top of Blake all night suddenly registered. Carl dropped to the ground as the memory of the kiss returned to his foggy mind. He gripped his head in his hands for a moment. He closed his eyes and he saw Blake's lips coming closer. He beat on his head with his palms suddenly. No, no, no! Why had he done that?!

Blake stirred in his sleep and Carl's head jerked up. Blake was only rolling over and curling into himself. He remained asleep but Carl decided he better leave now before he really did wake up. He didn't want to have to be in such an awkward situation though he knew he would have to face him later. Carl sighed and pulled a small cover off the back of the couch, covering Blake up first. He stared at him for a moment as he clutched the blanket tightly around him. Carl sighed as thought about last night. He felt a surge of pleasure from the memory of their dance and the warmth of Carl's small body as he moved closer. As he moved closer in order to kiss him. Carl turned from Blake's sleeping form and descended the ladder without another glance at the other boy. He knew this had been a bad idea. He'd known it because he'd known better than to trust himself.

He was relieved to find both his mom and Dave at work when he got home. He hurried inside and headed straight for the stairs but before he could make it Ginger spotted him. She came stomping out of the kitchen with a crazy glint in her eye that Carl didn't like. He tried to run upstairs but she grabbed him by the back of his shirt and pulled him back down, shoving him into the kitchen where she could lecture him without guarding his escape. She crossed her arms as he sat in a chair, resigning himself to an earful.

"Carl, what were you thinking?" she began. "I looked everywhere for you. I had to lie to Mom and tell her that you were staying with Hoodsey."

"Well I was staying the night with someone. Me and Blake were out in his tree house."

"I know where you were, Carl!" she shouted.

"Ow! Jesus, Ginger!" Carl shouted, grabbing his head as a sudden surge of pain shot through his brain.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Do you have a HANG OVER, CARL?!"

"Dammit, Ginger!" he cried, bending over so that his forehead almost touched his lap.

"Serves you right!" she replied. "I expected more from you, Carl. Do you know how much liquor you drank last night?"

"Three bottles." he replied, cooly, smirking.

"Carl, I saw you with Blake."

"We were drinking together. Of course you saw me with him."

"I saw you dancing with him."

"...So?" he asked, staring at her defensively. "I was already drunk by that time. You may not know this but people do stupid stuff when they get drunk."

"Yeah. I guess people do stupid stuff." she replied, staring him down. "Just don't do stupid stuff again or I might have to start spreading it around."

"You wouldn't dare." he whispered, angrily.

"Let me catch you drinking again and we'll find out."

Carl sighed as she turned to leave. This was just great. Now his sister was blackmailing him, Blake would be filled with false hope, and worst of all he was still going to have to talk to him as Nathanial. This was going to be the most awkward day of his life. He crawled back into bed to try to sleep his hang over off before he had to go in for his special punishment. He knew Ginger would wake him up when it was time to go and enjoy the process as well. Sometimes she could be the meanest girl to ever live but Carl knew this time she was only worried about him. He sighed as he buried his face in his pillow and tried to forget about the sight of Blake's lips. The feeling of his body held against his own. He pulled the pillow over his head and squeezed again. He hated feelings so much right now. He'd cut his heart out if he thought it would stop them. He eventually fell into a short, dreamless sleep, hoping Ginger would forget about him. He definitely didn't want to talk to Blake.


	4. Blake's Broken Heart

Alright! I actually wrote another chapter! I started this one back when I finished the last chapter but kept getting stumped. I tried several other times to just start over, but nothing was working. Then I started college and just had less time for writing my own stuff. I'm on break til my next semester on the 20th so I decided to try to get another chapter up. Went through all my half-assed attempts, but they still weren't working for me. So I came back to the first attempt I made and this is what I got. It's a little shorter than the last chapter and not much happens. I apologize for it's cruddiness but I thought I should try to get something – anything – up or I'd never keep the fic going. I'm planning to try ending it in the next chapter or two.

To neroon15, if you see this, I will be starting on your Harukanaru Toki No Naka De fanfiction now. I have been working on the plot in my mind since you suggested it, so I definitely haven't forgotten. I'll try to get the first chapter up before my next semester starts. I want it to be good so I won't just slop through and throw something up there. I'll leave a note in my profile, too. In case you don't see this one. To everyone reading this story, there'll be more action in the next chapter, promise.

~`.~`.~`.~`.~`.~`.~`.~`.~`.~`.~`.~`.~`.~`.~`.~`.~`.~`.~`.~

Carl slouched in his chair as he vaguely attempted to be nice to his phone buddies. He wasn't doing such a good job, and he hoped Dennison would take him off before Blake called. Unfortunately for him she didn't, though she kept threatening to if his mood didn't improve. He wasn't sure which bothered him more, his hangover or having to eventually talk to Blake. He supposed the culmination of the physical and mental anguish he was experiencing would be a good enough excuse for telling off every person he spoke with this morning. He'd even riled a girl into a shouting match at one point. Dennison could say what she wanted, but Carl figured he'd gotten her angry enough she'd given up the idea of suicide.

Near the end of the day the phone rang, and Carl knew it was Blake before he answered. He knew he would have to be silent as he listened to Blake tell him about something he wanted to forget about. If he spoke too much he was sure he would give himself away. He answered the phone with a grimace. He listened to the other boy's voice as he greeted him in a somewhat more cheerful manner than in previous conversations. Carl put a hand to his face and refused the urge to groan as Blake told him about the party in quite the excited manner. He spent more time on the dance than the kiss strangely enough, but that didn't mean he would forget to mention it. His words were short and spaced out as he described the experience so Carl was sure Blake was blushing a lot as he spoke. He was certain there was a bit of color to his own face as Blake used words like "romantic" and "exhilarating" to describe the event.

"Oh, I apologize," Blake whispered after he had finished, and Carl hadn't replied, "This subject must be making you terribly uncomfortable. I...wasn't thinking….just got a tad excited…"

"No," Carl sighed once Blake's nervous laughter had subsided, "It's fine. I just can't say I have enough experience in this particular field to voice an opinion."

"I understand. I just hope Carl isn't mad at me. He left without saying good-bye. And...he _was_ drunk."

"Well, just give him some time to himself," Carl warned, shifting in his seat uncomfortably, "Maybe he needs to think about things. He could be confused and ....frightened. People often are in these .... situations."

"But what if he talks to me first?" Blake asked, voice shaking, "What if he doesn't want to be friends anymore?"

"I'm sure he won't-"

"We've only been friends for three days, and I kissed him!" Blake groaned, "He hates me now! I know he does! I ruined everything!"

"Andrew!" Carl exclaimed before he could go on with his rant, "Calm down, mate. You said he kissed you right? So...if anything does happen...he ruined everything."

Carl's voice became soft and low as he said this. He hoped he hadn't ruined everything. He really didn't want to hurt Blake. He sighed as he finished off his conversation and hung up the phone. He laid his head on his desk, moaning plaintively in his agony. He only had a few more minutes before he could leave, and he hoped no one called before the day was officially over. He was drained enough from that short conversation as it was. He didn't think he would be able to handle one more whining brat when he had far worse problems to deal with himself. Dennison placed a hand on his shoulder when it was time to go, and he jerked up suddenly in surprise.

"Are you feeling okay, Carl?" she asked with a worried look.

"Sure." he sighed, standing slowly.

"You aren't having a problem with a caller, are you?" she insisted, stepping in front of him before he could leave.

"No! It's a personal problem, okay?" he snapped.

"Carl, if something important is going on you can tell me. You know that, right?"

"It's not important! It's just..." Carl faltered as she stared into his eyes. "It's just teenager stuff. It'll go away."

"Pretending a problem doesn't exist won't make it go away, Carl," she replied, "But if you don't want to talk to me about it, I understand. If you change your mind I'll still be here though."

"Kay," Carl mumbled, walking away, "Thanks."

Carl sighed heavily as he kicked the doors to the gym open with all his strength. Mrs. Dennison jerked slightly as they exploded outward, and Carl stomped through them. He ripped a thin branch off of a tree on the side of the road as he passed and smacked at whatever he came across that wouldn't strike back. He was suddenly filled with rage at himself and rage at Blake. He wanted to throttle the beautiful boy for this. Then he would remember that it was his fault. He thwacked himself in the head one good time, and then threw the stick aside before he could really hurt himself. He rubbed the red spot on his forehead tenderly after a moment and poked his lip out in a pout as he sulked. Things couldn't get much worse.

"Carl." a small voice whispered from behind him.

Carl stopped short and stood stiffly as he refused to face the other boy. Had he not just told Blake to give him some time to himself? He had listened to Nathanial last time, and it had turned out like this. Now, when he really wanted him to listen, he hadn't. Blake must have called from his cell phone while waiting for Carl to get out of his detention. Carl had told him before that it was spent cleaning up the school, but he wondered if he had figured out the truth. No. It wasn't likely. He probably didn't even know that was where the Phone Buddies were located.

"Yeah, Griplng?" Carl asked, coldly.

"Well....I.." Blake's voice sounded hurt, "I just thought that perhaps it would be best if we....talked."

"I don't want to talk. If I did I'd call that stupid Phone Buddies like the rest of the losers do."

Carl would be kicking himself for that one later, and the silence that set in behind him made his stomach turn. He didn't know if Blake was still standing behind him or not, but if he was he certainly wasn't breathing. He waited for a moment and listened for any sounds that would indicate that Blake had left. Carl decided to turn at last, expecting him to be gone. However, as he turned Blake swung into vision. He was standing as stiff as Carl had been, and his eyes were filling with tears. He slowly lowered his head, turning his eyes to the side in hopes that Carl hadn't caught sight of his weakness. He balled his fists at his side as he tried to keep control of his voice.

"Fine!" the younger boy snapped, "Who would want to talk to such an insensitive jerk as you, anyways? You're the one who kissed me Carl Foutley! Don't be angry at me for what you've done!"

Carl watched in silent horror as he ran for the limo parked across the road and slammed the door behind him. As it drove away Carl felt his stomach harden, and he was afraid he might throw up. He didn't think he could go on in this manner, so he sat on the side of the road as he waited for the nausea to pass. He couldn't get the picture of Blake's expression out of his mind. It was so forlorn and injured. He hadn't seen him cry, but he knew he would when he was alone. He had made Blake cry. His stomach punished him a bit more at this thought, and he groaned as he covered his head with his arms.

"Why did I do that?" he moaned. "Why, why, why?"

He sat there for some time, but the feeling in his stomach only worsened as he thought about how he had hurt Blake. He finally decided he would have to endure the miserable walk home and stood slowly. He kept his head down as he walked along, trying his hardest not to think about anything. He counted the cracks in the sidewalk as he passed them. One, two, three, four, five; it was like counting sheep. If he kept counting - if he kept his mind focused on those cracks - he could keep the image of Blake's sorrowful expression out of his mind. However, soon he felt a stinging at the back of his eyelids. Despite avoiding any thoughts of him, Blake's sorrow was thrashing about in the pit of his stomach. Carl stopped suddenly as he reached home and looked to the right. The dog house stared back at him blankly, the door hanging loosely on its broken hinges.

Carl felt suddenly drawn to the broken structure, and his feet were heavy as he walked towards the ancient relic. Each step felt like it lasted a million years. When he reached the entrance, he dropped to his knees like a stone. He crawled inside the gutted fortress, barely fitting inside but hardly caring. He flopped to the floor carelessly and curled into a ball. He stared at the spider webs in the back-right corner, mind strangely blank as he listened to the silence that filled his childhood refuge. How long had it been since he had heard such silence? It seemed to weigh down on his mind painfully. He put up no fight against the tears that spilled out of his control. He hadn't wanted any of this, and now he couldn't take it back. He should have left things alone. He should have told Blake to leave Carl alone during their first conversation. Carl only wanted to be alone. He buried his face in his arms as they rose to cover his head. Alone was so much less painful.

~`.~`.~`.~`.~`.~`.~`.~`.~`.~`.~`.~`.~`.~`.~`.~`.~`.~`.~`.~

Carl stared at his plate of chicken sadly, poking at the grease-drenched slab of meat as the rest of his family chattered on about nothing in particular. Dave's job was going great; more money to spend on the family. Ginger's last year of school was her best yet; a scholarship into that fancy art college was in sight. His mother could never be happier with either of them. He tried not to think of how much he had missed the sound of Blake's voice during his last few days at Phone Buddies hell. He tried not to wonder about how he was doing, or why he never called. He tried, as he so often did lately, not to think at all. Lois stared at his slouched form, and the smile faded from her lips.

"Carl, you okay over there?" she asked gently.

"Yeah, ma," Carl grinned at her, "Chicken's great."

Lois watched him lower his head again. The fake smile melted from his face, and she saw the sorrow there. Even Ginger had noticed. She gave her mother a curious glance before returning her eyes to Carl. Dave seemed to be the only one not to notice. He was taking dishes away from the table, still chattering in his oblivious way. Ginger helped him, hoping to keep him at the sink long enough for Lois to find out what was wrong with Carl. Carl didn't realize that everyone else had disappeared until Lois spoke again.

"Alright, kid," she sighed. "What's wrong?"

"I told you, nothin'." Carl replied, refusing to give her eye contact.

"I'm your mother, Carl," she continued, "I think I can tell when something's wrong."

He stabbed his chicken a little harder. Why hadn't she said anything like this to him in the past few years? Why was she only noticing his problems now, when it was least convenient for him? He knew she wouldn't leave him alone until he gave her a reason for his sullen expressions and recent disappearances. He remembered that she was stubborn that way. He thought briefly - very briefly - of sharing his problem with his mother. She was a reasonable woman. She had been there for him when he was younger, but Carl knew that this was different. If he told her it may only cause more trouble for him in the long run.

"I'm fine, Lois," he sighed, dropping his fork with a clatter, "I'm not on drugs, I don't have unprotected sex, and I'm not in a gang, okay?!"

"Is it a girl?" Lois asked gently.

"No."

Lois looked surprised at the tone of his voice. It was as though he were spitting the response from the pit of his stomach. It was almost like he had vomited it onto the table. After a moment of silence, he stood suddenly, and the dishes shook as his knees hit the underside of the table. Lois' face saddened as she watched him disappear down the hall. She heard the front door slam and sighed heavily, placing a hand over her eyes. Ginger and Dave returned to the dining room to find her sobbing into her napkin. How had she let herself grow so far from Carl? When had it happened? Ginger and Dave were at her side in no time, rubbing her back as they tried to discover the source of her sadness.

Carl stomped down the sidewalk, not knowing where he was going; not particularly caring. He only knew that he didn't want to answer any questions because that would require him to think. He couldn't let himself start thinking, not seriously. If he did, he knew he would lose control of the situation. He wondered if Hoodsey would want to hang out, but he discarded that idea as quickly as it came. Somehow he knew Hoodsey would only make the situation worse; anyone would. He wanted to drink but knew of nowhere to procure alcohol this late at night. He stopped suddenly as he realized he was following his route to school and looked to the sky.

"I could really use some help down here, big guy." he sighed, a desperate look on his face, "I have no idea what I'm doing."

He put his hands in his pockets and shuffled on down the road, wishing he had someone in which he could confide. He stared at the cracks in the sidewalk once again. One, two, three; it had been three days since he had seen Blake. He turned his eyes back to the sky to watch the twinkling blanket flow above him. It was like a sparkling, black ocean that stretched across the world, reaching into eternity. Carl sighed heavily as he came to a stop again. The world around him seemed to spin at the sudden ceasing of motion. The sky became still and the stars glared down at him coldly.

"Carl!"

Carl lowered his head slowly to watch a set of headlights approach. Ginger stopped beside him and stared. The look wasn't angry, reprimanding, or that of her usual masked concern. It was open and her eyes spoke to him. She knew what was going on already. He turned his eyes away from her. If he got into the car she would want to talk about it. If he didn't, he would just have to walk on with this burden weighing him down all night. He spat at the grass and kicked her tire as he circled around to the other side of the car. Ginger didn't scold him for his disregard of her seatbelt rule and took off when he slammed the door. It was silent for some time. Carl watched as the town swept by in a blur. She wasn't heading home.

"Are you okay, Carl?" Ginger asked finally.

"Sure," he whispered, "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Is it Blake?" she continued.

"You sound like Mom, you know?" he sighed.

"I'm not going to tell her, Carl," Ginger stated simply, "I just want to make sure you're okay."

Carl grew silent and watched the trees fly by them. Ginger had never been overly concerned with his problems. Normally she was too wrapped up in her own to even think about him. This hadn't angered him as much as his mother's lack of interest because it had always been that way between them. Why she was suddenly changing that now, he would never know.

"Look," Ginger began again after the long stretch of silence, "I'm just trying to help. As annoying as you are, you're my brother, Carl. Why do you think I come down on you so had when you do things that aren't good for you? If you'd just let me help you -"

"I hurt his feelings, okay?" Carl admitted at last, "I hurt his feelings, and now I feel like shit."

The car came to a stop as he said this, and Ginger turned to stare at him. Carl looked out the window in an attempt to avoid eye contact once again. He noticed Ginger had pulled into the parking lot of a restaurant. He highly doubted this was an indication that he was going to get free food considering it was of Mexican origins. Ginger hated Mexican food. He watched a random droplet of water roll down the window. Where had that come from? Ginger's eyes were still burning holes in the back of his head. He could feel her stare and it reminded him of his mother again. Ginger grew to be more and more like her everyday. Who was Carl growing to be like? He sighed and decided to avoid any thoughts of his father.

"I didn't want to hurt him," he said, still staring out the window. "But I don't know what….I guess, I'm still trying to figure out who I am. I know it's what happens at this age, but that doesn't mean I want Blake hurt in the process."

He turned to look at Ginger at last and was surprised to see her smiling at him.

"What?" Carl demanded.

"Nothing, Carl," she responded, softly, "I just forgot how smart you are."

"What's that gotta do with anything?" he mumbled.

"Most kids your age wouldn't be able to analyze their situation like you just did," Ginger explained, "At least you have an advantage going for you."

"It doesn't seem to be helping me much." Carl sighed.

"It's not the end of the world," Ginger stated, starting the engine again, "Even if you hurt Blake, he'll get over it. The world keeps spinning. Life goes on. It'll be alright."

Carl returned his eyes to the signs as they swam by him in a string of multicolored lights. He wanted to thank Ginger for talking to him but little brother etiquette seemed to hinder him. He managed to smile at her slightly at a red light and she returned the gesture. When they reached home both Foutley siblings exited the vehicle. Ginger headed for the door, but Carl just stood beside her car. She stopped and turned to face him.

"You coming in, Carl?" Ginger asked.

"No," he stated, "I don't feel like it."

"You should," she responded, "You made Mom cry, you know."

"Sorry," he said, "I just need…..Tell her I'll be in soon."

Ginger gave him a curious look, but she figured he wanted to be alone with his thoughts for a while. She was glad he was going to try to straighten things out. She watched as he walked over to his old clubhouse and crawled inside. It had been years since she'd seen him go anywhere near that thing. She could see his feet sticking out of the broken door and shook her head with a smile as she entered the house. Ginger would explain to her mother as best as she could so she wouldn't worry while Carl was wallowing in the dirt. She'd always known Carl was strange and she supposed he always would be. Maybe his history of oddities would keep Lois from being too shocked when she found out. Ginger certainly hoped so for Carl's sake.


End file.
